Mischief Managed
by Aarg
Summary: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. From first year to seventh as they grow up and become the people they become.
1. Chapter 1

Eleven-year-old Sirius Black tilted his head as he stared at the aging tapestry of their family tree. There he was, his name, in bright gold thread. He would be the greatest wizard ever, he decided. He would save the world from Mudbloods and half-breeds and traitorous scum, and maybe even a dragon – no, a whole pack of dragons - and a manticore and a werewolf too - and then Mother and Father will look at him with pride, because then, he will have become what they have always wanted for a son, and not a disappointment of an heir.

A croaking voice brought him out of his reverie. "Mistress will be glad to be rid of young master." Kreacher entered the drawing room and dropped his trunk on the floor with a thud. The elf turned his protruding, bloodshot eyes toward Sirius. "The boy is always causing trouble. Kreacher hopes he will not disgrace the family name at Hogwarts. How my mistress will be shamed. Master Regulus would have made a much better heir."

"Go away, Kreacher." Sirius said with a glare. "You don't know anything."

And with a skeptical look, Kreacher shuffled out of the drawing room.

_Stupid house elf,_ thought Sirius, determined to think no more of it.

But as Sirius turned back to look at the tapestry, the gold letters that spelled his name seemed a lot less bright. It wasn't fair, for he tried harder than Regulus to be good, and met with less success, only trouble and admonishment. He couldn't sit still. He made noise. He smiled too much. There wasn't much his mother liked, but as far as her dislikes, all three topped the list. And Sirius wondered, not for the first time, if there was something very wrong with him.

A rustle at the door made Sirius scowl again. "That was an order, Kreacher," he said sharply.

But it was Regulus this time, watching him solemnly from the doorway. Though each was a little jealous of the other, they were brothers, and in a house as cold and gloomy as Grimmauld Place, that meant something.

"If you stand there any longer, I'm going to hex you," said Sirius, waving his wand threateningly.

"You're not allowed to use magic yet."

Sirius pointed his wand at one of the skulls sitting on the coffee table. "_Wingardium leviosa," _he said, and the prized trophy head flew up and up and up.

Regulus stepped inside. "Mother will be furious if she sees that."

"I'm not frightened of Mother." Sirius replied haughtily.

But the glance at the door and the quickly muttered counter-spell determined that to be a lie.

"I'm leaving you know," he said, when his brother continued to stand there in silence.

"Yeah." Replied Regulus, and the tone in which that word was spoken spoke more than all the words he never spoke. Some would call Regulus stiff and standoffish, and they would be right, but Sirius knew how to transfigure his brother from a piece of furniture into a human being without Transfiguration.

"You'll be alright." Sirius said softly. "Mother never minds you."

Regulus looked away. For while it was true their mother saw the elder son only to criticize, she saw the younger not at all.

"Besides, it's only one year. Then you'll be at Hogwarts too, and we'll both be in Slytherin, and we'll turn Mudbloods into frogs and blood traitors into weasels and we'll fight dragons together!"

Regulus frowned. "I don't want to fight dragons."

Sirius thought for a moment. "You will next year." He said confidently. "Slytherins all want to fight dragons."

"Really?"

"Merlin did. And he was a Slytherin. Mind you, if you're not, we'll disown you."

Regulus' eyebrows furrowed up in worry.

"No pressure, Reg." Sirius gestured at the family tree. "Blacks always go to Slytherin. But imagine being put in Gryffindor. I'd take the first train back."

Regulus didn't answer, and Sirius looked at around the room thoughtfully. "Can you believe I'll really be gone from this place? Think of all the memories! I tried to hide a pixie in here once, remember? Aunt Elladora was over. Remember how it hung her up on the chandelier?"

But Regulus didn't smile. "You'll write me, won't you?"

"Even better! I'll send you loads of pixies!"

Sirius checked his laugh when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

"Well? Are your things ready?" Mrs. Black asked coldly.

"Yes, Mother." He replied.

"Go wait out in the entrance hall. Your father will be down in a moment."

This surprised Sirius. Like the Loch Ness Monster, Mr. Black was an elusive figure, occasionally spoken of, but rarely seen. He spent most of his hours reading wizarding genealogies up in his office, going to knarl-races, and paying vast sums of money to high-ranking Ministry officials. Unlike his wife, he never seemed to find time to terrorize his children.

"Can you believe Father's really coming to King's Cross with us?" Sirius said to his brother as they waited in the entrance hall. He didn't like it very much. The corpses hanging from the walls crept him out, but Mother thought they made for good decoration.

"You're the heir, aren't you?" Said Regulus, staring at a particularly bloody trunk. "I suppose he'll want to see you off."

Mr. and Mrs. Black soon arrived, conversation ceased, and together, the four of them stepped outside into the street.

They got into their enchanted car in silence; they drove in silence; they arrived in silence. But Platform Nine and Three Quarters was not silent, and for Sirius, the clamor evoked feelings of the most exquisite delight. The scarlet steam engine blew puffs of white steam and whistled cheerfully. All around him, students bustled to and fro, chattering over the noise of mewing cats and hooting owls.

"Geoffrey Doge has a tarantula! It's supposed to be _this _big!" He heard one boy say, his hands stretched out to the size of a platter.

"Sirius, you have dirt on your nose. What are you? A common Mudblood?" Snapped Mrs. Black, and Sirius quickly rubbed at his nose.

Vaguely, through the sounds and sweet airs of the bustling station, Sirius heard his mother lecture him on the responsibilities of being a Black, but he did not care. He was free. It was the beginning of a whole new life.

And as the train whistled, he turned to his Regulus. "I'll see you at Christmas." Sirius said, and then he was off.


	2. Chapter 2

The compartment door slammed shut, and the scrawny boy with the spectacles and messy black hair turned to him with a grin. "I'm James Potter," he said, sticking out his hand, but Sirius did not take it. He had not liked the Snivellus git, but he already knew he hated this Potter.

"Black," he answered coolly, "Sirius Black."

It did not take long for James Potter to withdraw his hand.

"_Black?" _Potter's grin fell into an expression of disgust.

Sirius stood up. "You got a problem with that?"

"Yeah, I do," replied Potter, unfazed by their disparity in size. "Everyone knows your family's up to their eyes in the Dark Arts."

Sirius wasn't sure how this was supposed to be an insult, but the tone certainly made it one. "I've heard about your family," he answered with a sneer, "You lot are even filthier than that Snivellus git. A good wash couldn't get rid of the dirt from the Mudbloods you consort with."

Potter had his wand out in a flash but Sirius was ready. He had been looking forward to his first real duel.

"_Locomotor Mortis," _cried Sirius, brandishing his wand with gusto.

But Potter's reflexes were good; he ducked the Leg-Locking Curse and answered with a spell that knocked Sirius off his feet.

From the floor, Sirius hit Potter with a Tongue-Tying Spell, and Potter, no longer able to utter incantations, threw aside his wand and tackled Sirius like a wild animal.

And then they were punching and kicking and rolling around on the floor. They were dueling the Muggle style, and Sirius was enjoying it. For someone so scrawny looking, Potter wasn't bad, but Sirius was bigger and held the advantage.

And had a voice had not yelled "Impedimenta," he had no doubt he would have won. But instead, both boys found themselves thrown back by the force of the jinx.

"What is going on here?" Said Andromeda, her voice as cold as ever.

Sirius scowled. Bella would have helped him, Cissy would have let him carry on. Only Andromeda the Prefect would break them up when he was winning.

Potter tried to speak and succeeded only in sounding like a monkey, so Andromeda, who never found anything funny, undid his spell work with a swish of her wand.

"He attacked me first!" exclaimed Potter.

"I was defending our family honor!"

"His family are evil, Dark wizards!"

"Sirius and I are cousins," Ann said, giving Potter a cool stare. She waved her wand again and mended his swollen eye and cut lip. "I suggest you behave yourself for the rest of the ride. Sirius, I think you had better come with me."

Ann led him out and shut the compartment door behind them.

"I could have beaten Potter," he grumbled.

"Sirius," Ann said, with an urgent, lowered voice. "Did you hit him with anything besides the Tongue-Tying Curse?"

"No," he answered sullenly.

Ann was visibly relieved. "Good. Now listen to me. You mustn't use Dark Magic at Hogwarts. Particularly in front of someone like James Potter. His family has a good deal of influence and can put us into Azkaban if you're not careful."

"_Azkaban?" _Sirius looked at her, horrified.

"Yes, Azkaban. So you must be careful, do you understand?"

Sirius nodded. He had heard time and again that the Ministry was falling under the influence of blood traitors and Mudbloods, who couldn't appreciate Dark Magic for what it was. The Potters fell under that category, but what he didn't want to admit, to either Ann or himself, was that he had never really been tempted to use Dark Magic on James Potter in the first place.

He changed the subject.

"Where are you taking me?"

"You're sitting with Cissy."

"_What?" _Sirius exclaimed. Cissy was well enough when he wanted someone to tease in the summer months, but sitting with her and her gang of girls would be a nightmare.

"I don't want you getting expelled before you even set foot in Hogwarts."

"You can't tell me what to do!" he said, but she nonetheless dragged him into Narcissa's compartment with all her giggling girl friends.

By the time they got to Hogwarts, Sirius was ready to dive off the train. He had learned more than he ever wanted to know about Alastair Parkinson's Ministry prospects, Gordian Nott's fine eyes, and the acreage of the Malfoys' grounds.

The first-years had their first look of Hogwarts as they approached the Black Lake. An enormous castle with brightly lit windows winked and beckoned at them from afar. Sirius was in awe.

Together, they rowed across the lake, tread across the grounds, and into the castle.

Sirius was used to wealth and grandeur, but the entrance hall was on a completely different scale. But it was more than that – it was warm and bright and welcoming, and hinted of laughter and fun and something else.

A stern looking witch in green tarlatan robes greeted them at the entrance.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose your house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

She led them into a giant hall with a sky that mimicked the night sky, and four long tables sorted by House.

Sirius didn't have to wait long for his name to be called. He placed the hat on his head rather cockily. He knew where he would go.

"No, I don't think you do," said the Sorting Hat smugly. "Daring, nerve, a penchant for heroics – I know just where you belong."

Sirius's grin dropped. _What?_

"It's all in your head."

"Put me in Slytherin." He demanded imperiously to the too-big hat sitting over his eyes.

"You're a demanding one aren't you? Well, it's our choices that define us, so I'll tell you what – I gave Bellatrix a choice, and I'll give one to you. What shall it be?"

Sirius breathed a sigh of relief.

"The question all comes down to what you want most. Do you want greatness or family?"

Sirius blinked, and that pause was just enough time for the hat to shout, "_GRYFFINDOR._"


	3. Chapter 3

As the Prefects led the first-years to their dormitories, Sirius slipped away.

He spied a stony-faced Bellatrix walking through a passageway and tried to catch up with her.

"Bella!" Sirius called out, but she ignored him. He ran after her. "No, Bella– _wait! _Listen, Bella, I'll go to Professor Dumbledore and _make _him resort me."

She spun around so quickly Sirius almost ran into her. Her expression was cold and hard. It scared him more than her fiery temper ever did.

"Dumbledore?" She gave a humorless laugh. "That blood traitor? That _Gryffindor? _You'll turn out just like him. Don't bother, Sirius. The Sorting Hat didn't think you worthy of Slytherin."

Sirius felt a cold chill run through his body at her words. He stared at her, at a loss for words. "The Sorting Hat hadn't wanted to put you in Slytherin either." He said at last, his voice fierce.

In a moment, she had her wand pointed in his face.

"But it did. Which is more than it did for you."

He expected her to curse him, to scream at him, anything. But instead she turned and walked away.

For a long time, long after she had disappeared, Sirius stood there, alone in a secret passageway in an enchanted castle, with no idea of where he was or where he was to go.

"_If the hat tries to put _me_ in Gryffindor, I'm taking the first train back." _He had said only a few hours ago. But now that he was in Gryffindor, he wasn't sure if he had the courage to go home.

Mother and Father would be furious. Seven centuries of Slytherins and he had failed. Would they disown him? And Regulus – he had hoped, had always hoped, that once they got to Hogwarts they might be proper brothers. And now he knew it could never be.

Maybe he could run away, Sirius thought miserably. Maybe to Finland or Albania or Morocco even. He could go tonight, get there by morning, and live the rest of his life out in a cave. It might even be kind of exciting.

But as he wandered through the labyrinth of corridors and moving staircases, he realized he couldn't even find his way out of the castle.

It was Professor McGonagall who finally found him.

"Mr. Black!" She said running towards him, her glasses flashing furiously. "Really, you have all the prefects looking for you!" Her lips were thin and she had a look that said she was not to be argued with but Sirius wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing.

"I won't." He replied defiantly. "I'm leaving."

Professor McGonagall peered down at him through her spectacles. For some reason, her expression seemed to soften. "Don't be ridiculous, Mr. Black."

"I mean it. I'm running away. I'm going to Morocco and I'm going to live my life out in a cave where no one's ever going to find me." He glared at her, daring her to contradict him.

But she only sighed. "Perhaps in the morning, Mr. Black." She said drily. "It's raining outside, and I'd rather my students not catch cold."

"I'm not going to Gryffindor Tower."

"You're already here." Replied McGonagall, raising her eyebrows. She turned to the portrait. "Cornish Pixies," she said briskly, and the Fat Lady swung open.

"Up you go."

He opened his mouth to argue, but she was already pushing him up.

He found himself staring at a deserted common room. It was past midnight and the students had all gone to bed.

He looked around suspiciously. Where were the elf heads, and the rattling skeletons? Where were the bloodstains? But there was only a cozy room with wooden tables and squashy armchairs, strewn with streamers and leftover candy wrappers.

A large fireplace blew its last embers from one wall, while the others were covered with scarlet tapestries of various figures associated with the house - Godric Gryffindor with his mighty sword, Ilsa the Inimitable taking down a three headed troll, Edgar the Elephant saving a mouse from a rainstorm, and more. It was all very strange.

Professor McGonagall directed him to one of the spiral staircases.

"Your dormitory is right up there in the tower. It's nearly twelve in the morning so you had better go to bed straightaway. You have a busy day tomorrow."

She looked at him inscrutably, and suddenly, she smiled. "Come, Mr. Black, my House isn't so bad, if I do say so myself. Now mind you get some rest."

Sirius was sure there was no way he could possibly fall asleep after such an ordeal as the day had wrought, but drift to sleep he did, and next thing he knew, he was late to breakfast.

He was welcomed into the Great Hall by pointed stares and a sharp looking eagle owl bearing a crimson letter that was beginning to smoke around the edges.

His face paled, and for a moment, Sirius considered running for it. It would have been bad enough to sit down at the Gryffindor table, but to have the whole school listening on as his mother shrieked at him was something he did not think he could bear.

But then his eyes met James Potter's triumphant ones, and Sirius quickly reached for the Howler and tore it open.

"HOW DARE YOU? SEVEN CENTURIES OF A PURE AND NOBLE TRADITION, SEVEN CENTURIES OF SLYTHERINS, AND YOU GET SORTED INTO GRYFFINDOR? GRYFFINDOR? YOU'VE BROUGHT SHAME TO THE FAMILY, YOU'VE TAINTED THE FAMILY NAME – "

Sirius was proud, both by nature and by education. It made him all the more sensitive to the humiliation, but the disgusted faces of all the Gryffindors, and the gleeful ones of a few Slytherins reveling at the fallen Black, were all but forgotten with the thought of the disgrace he had brought upon his family.

He was supposed to have been the heir, and he had failed. He knew all this without having it screamed at him in front of the whole school. He felt his eyes grow hot so he quickly grabbed his pumpkin juice and blinked away the threatening tears as he pretended to gulp down the liquid.

As the Howler screeched away its last breath, and crumbled into a pile of ashes, Sirius sat there, motionless and pale. He had hardly eaten the night before, and had been starving when he awoke this morning. But the Howler had robbed him of his appetite.

Only the thought of James Potter helped him endure that long breakfast, and his classmates looked on in wonder at what they perceived to be indifference.


End file.
